


Pi is Transcendental

by Dangit



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mistaken Identity, One Shot, Tumblr Prompt, kind of, tutor Sanji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 02:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4648194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangit/pseuds/Dangit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt:<br/>I'm actually really good at math but the tutor is really hot so I'm pretending to be dumb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pi is Transcendental

**Author's Note:**

> It doesn't exactly follow the prompt, but I wrote this an hour before rushing out for work.

It always surprises people when Zoro tells them he enjoys spending time in the library. Maybe it’s the bright green hair, the scarred eye, the pierced ear, or simply the fuck-you attitude, but people tend to think of him as some kind of thug.

And while he usually doesn’t give a fuck about authority, it’s not like he goes out looking for trouble on a daily basis. He’s a private and essentialy quiet person that likes to be left alone—and the library is a godsend to people like him. You know, if he believed in god.

If he’s not in his father’s dojo training, then he’s in the library, mostly chilling—sometimes, he even picks out a book to read. The staff already knows him and most of the students milling around recognize him well enough not to bother him.

That’s why it comes as such a surprise when suddenly, somebody sits down in front of him and starts talking hurriedly.

“Sorry I’m so late. I know I promised I would get here early but I have this part-time job—though it’s not really a job, considering I’m not getting paid—at a restaurant and you know how rush hour is—it was a whole deal with people coming in expecting their food to be ready in five minutes and it’s like, if you want fast food go to McDonald’s, you know? Don’t come to a fucking restaurant where people actually start preparing your food when you ask for it so it won’t get cold or greasy in the kitchen—I’m sorry, I’m ranting, aren’t I? My name is Sanji, and I’ll be your tutor.”

Zoro blinks slowly and stares at the man in front of him with his mouth slightly ajar.

Blond hair. Blue eyes. Weird eyebrows. It’s pretty simple, really. Those are features Zoro sees daily, features that are pretty common in the U.S. where the majority of people are Caucasian. And yet…yet somehow, this guy is so amazingly attractive that it’s really fucking unfair.

Like, who can fucking make a curly eyebrow _hot_? And how can eyes be _that_ color blue, an exact replica of the ocean on a stormy night (and whoa, Zoro, you’re not an English major, cool it with the metaphors)? Even the stupid fucking unlit cigarette is fucking sexy as fuck, held by thin and slightly chapped lips in a way that is entirely too suggestive.

It’s been a while since Zoro last felt physical attraction. He’s not a very sexual person, though he’s had sex once or twice in his twenty-three years alive, but he’s hardly ever felt truly attracted to anyone.

Maybe all that attraction got stuck somewhere inside of him and finally unclogged in the exact moment when this guy sat down in front of him, and that’s why Zoro is having trouble speaking like a normal human being in the face of a goddamn super model.

“You _did_ request a tutor, right?” the guy—Sanji, that’s his name—asks carefully, probably confused (or afraid) by his gaping mouth and wide eyes.

“No—yes! I mean, yup, that’s me,” Zoro says quickly, yelling at his brain to stop shorting out. “Sorry,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his head.

Sanji smiles and Zoro’s heart does this weird flip-floppity thing that is probably not good for his health.

“Did you bring your notes?” Sanji asks, bringing his messenger back up to the table.

“Uh…” Zoro stares as Sanji brings out a thick textbook, a couple of pens and pencils, a highlighter, and a notebook. A quick glance at the textbook covers lets him know exactly what he’s supposed to be tutored in: Linear Algebra.

“No,” he finally answers.

Sanji smirks. “You know, maybe this is why you’re failing. Notes are usually a good idea.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Zoro mutters.

“No matter, I brought my notes,” Sanji says, opening his notebook to reveal neat, tidy writing and color-coded notes. “Wait, I didn’t catch your name?”

“It’s, uh, Zoro,” he answers nervously, afraid that Sanji will see right through him, but he simply nods.

“Nice name. Like the movie, right?”

“Nope, just one R.”

“Hmm,” Sanji murmurs and brings out a pair of glasses.

Fuck him. Fuck him to all hell for being so goddamn attractive to the point where Zoro feels like a pervert for getting a semi at the sight of him in glasses. Seriously, is he getting sick? Did Nami trick him into drinking something weird? You can’t possibly like a person so much without knowing anything about them, right?

Holy shit, is this that crap Vivi was talking about the other day? Love at first sight? No…no there’s no way. There’s no fucking way.

“What are you having problems with?”

Zoro rubs his hair in an attempt to calm himself. “Uh…concepts, mostly, you know. Like…uh, matrix inversions and transpositions…decompositions, stuff like that.”

Sanji rolls his cigarette in his lip as he thinks, looking through his notes, and Zoro tries not to fantasize.

“Here it is!” Sanji finally exclaims, turning his notebook around to show to Zoro. “Here are my notes on concepts. I’m going to explain them to you and we’ll work on some problems to make sure you fully understand them. I know Linear Algebra can be pretty abstract, but it’s not too difficult.”

“Thanks. Are you majoring in math?” Zoro asks curiously. He’s pretty sure he would’ve remember seeing someone like Sanji around in school, but he can’t quite place him.

“Me? Nah! I’m in culinary arts,” Sanji grins. “I’m a chef. But I like math and I took a couple of classes for fun—I know, I know, what kind of nerd takes _Linear Algebra_ for fun, right?”

“I like nerds,” Zoro answers without thinking, but he’s rewarded when Sanji blushes softly and averts his gaze. “I’m a history nerd myself. I mean, I’m majoring in math, but I like history.” A little white lie, but mostly the truth. 

“Really? Because with all of that, you don’t’ look like it,” Sanji says, motioning to all of Zoro with his hand.

“What do you mean?”

“Punk hair? Thick…um, muscular, you know. The earrings,” Sanji says awkwardly.

“Nah, that’s just personal preference,” Zoro shrugs. “I had to die my hair green in high school because I lost a bet. A lot of people tried poking fun of me, but I shut them down pretty quickly. And since then, I’ve just kept wearing it…I guess I kinda like pissing people off.”

Sanji snorts. “Right. Well, what can I say, I like pissing people off, too. My old man says I curse too much, but fuck it, why should you censor yourself? If people don’t like me because of the way I talk, then they can go fuck themselves.”

“So, are you a good chef?” Zoro asks, eager to know more about this guy. Hey, if he’s gonna be attracted to him, it better be more than just because he’s hot. Zoro likes strong personalities, passion, and ambition in people. He hardly ever pays attention to the body.

Though this guy has a fucking body to kill for—shit, stop looking at him, Zoro!

“I’m a great chef, marimo,” Sanji says cockily, smirking. “Very best in the whole city—dare I say, the state.”

“Marimo? Oi, fuck you, curly-brow. I bet your food tastes like shit.”

Oh wow, what an amazing way to flirt. Good job, Zoro. Why don’t you punch him in the face while you’re at it?

“Fuck you, too, marimo. My food is fucking amazing,” Sanji retorts. “It’ll have you licking your fingers and begging for more.”

“Yeah, right,” Zoro snorts.

Sanji’s eyes narrow and he glares at him. “You know what…we’re meeting again tomorrow and I’m fucking bringing you the best fucking meal you’ll ever have in your measly, pathetic life. Then I’ll get to enjoy watching you beg for more.”

Zoro flushes red at the entirely too suggestive words. “Pervert,” he mutters, and then it’s Sanji’s turn to turn red and splutter.

“That’s not what I mean—fuck you!”

“Shh!” the librarian hisses at them from his desk and Zoro and Sanji wince.

“We should get back to this,” Sanji mutters, nodding at the notebook in Zoro’s hands.

It’s pretty hard to focus on Sanji’s words when he’s sitting close enough that Zoro can smell the tantalizing aroma of cigarettes and spices. At one point, Sanji moves to sit next to him, sitting close enough that Zoro can feel his warmth. His legs are amazingly long, and when he stands up to go look for a book, Zoro finds himself almost drooling at the sight of them.

He manages to turn the conversation away from math a couple of times, poking a little to try and figure Sanji out. He already proved to be passionate about his work, as cocky and arrogant as Zoro himself, and very strong-willed.

Zoro is completely gone on this guy. He likes this him, he fucking really likes this guy. He wants to ask him out, wants to figure out if he’s gay, or maybe even bi, or anything in the spectrum of sexuality that will allow him to be attracted to Zoro, too.

But before he can gather his wits and ask the guy out, a familiar face appears.

“Oi, Sanji! Man, I’m so sorry I’m late!” Usopp exclaims, rushing forward to dump his stuff on the table. “I’m Usopp, the guy who called you about tutoring? Oh, hey, Zoro!”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck fuck fuck.

Sanji stares at Usopp, then glances at Zoro. “What? _You’re_ the one that needs tutoring?” Sanji asks, turning back to Usopp.

“Yeah! This stuff is so hard,” Usopp complains. “I’ll even pay you for the half-hour I was late.”

“But…I thought…you?”

Zoro winces and avoids Sanji’s gaze. “So…maybe I don’t need to be tutored…?”

“Zoro, tutored?” Usopp exclaims, laughing. “Dude, Zoro’s my TA! It’d be pretty weird if the teacher’s assistant needed tutoring, right?”

He’s gonna kill Usopp. That’s what needs to happen. The long-nose deserves to die.

“TA? Why the hell would you tell me you needed to be tutored, then?” Sanji exclaims angrily, flipping the angry librarian off when the man shushes them again.

And see, the thing is, Zoro is asking himself the same thing. Because Roronoa Zoro is not a liar, and he never thought he would lie in his life, less alone for a pretty face. So it’s a matter of principle now, and principle dictates that Zoro be completely honest right now.

“Because you’re really hot and I wanted to keep talking to you. So can I have your number?”

Sanji blushes completely red and his gaze lowers in something that could be called demure if Zoro didn’t know already that Sanji is anything but demure.

“Idiot,” he snaps and Zoro’s mood dampens until Sanji continues. “How else am I gonna call you? You still need to eat my food.”

Zoro grins widely as Sanji quickly writes down his number.

“Don’t lose it, marimo,” Sanji says, smirking.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, shit cook,” Zoro counters. “Oh, and he’s horrid with matrices,” he adds, nodding at the confused Usopp. “Just so you know.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Sanji grins.

“Study hard, Usopp. Your final is in three weeks,” Zoro reminds him, patting him in the shoulder as he leaves. He snickers when Usopp whimpers and quickly starts taking out his notes.

Zoro looks down at the number in his hand and smiles. Maybe there’s something to Vivi’s ‘love at first sight’ theory. He definitely needs to test it out.

 


End file.
